


Working It Out

by kittykat2892



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: A little knife play, Angry Sex, Dominant Reader, F/M, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Snarky Luciano, Tied Hands, old story, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykat2892/pseuds/kittykat2892
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being in an established relationship with Luciano Vargas, 2P version of North Italy and one of the most violent men in the universe, is never easy. Being the girlfriend of said Italian when the World Meetings come around is even less so, but at least you know how the nights usually end when he decides to come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working It Out

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a re-post of an older one originally posted on DeviantArt. DA decided to delete it, so I'm reposting it over here. I am no longer in the fandom, but I promised to put the deleted works back up.

Background noise pummels your ears; the screams of anger and disbelief from daytime television re-runs on the extra satellite channels, the clanking of dishes and utensils in the sink, the hum of the refrigerator... All of it makes you sick and angrier than before.

You hiss when a fork prods into your palm and you reel back into reality. Scowling at the offending utensil, you throw it across the room where it embeds itself in the opposite wall. Breath harsh, you turn your back on the quivering piece of metal and grip the counter. Grinding your teeth, you glare out the window as if willing something to happen.

A week has passed since the last time you laid eyes on your Italian boyfriend and a few days since he last checked in with you. He says the meeting between the more powerful nations is important, but how important can it be to fight until someone knocks him a good one? Headlights flood the yard, the sensor light flashing to life and glinting off the sleek, red Italian sports car that pulls into the garage and out of sight. A grim smirk spreads across your lips, and you snatch up a dishtowel to dry your hands as you move to meet Luciano at the door.

Tension immediately sparks between the two of you. Luciano glares at you from a black eye and scowls with a split lip. His shoulders tremble as if a huge weight rests on them, and you'd like to think it's because of the pressure of your furious gaze. Water drips from your fingers, pooling on Luciano's prized hardwood floor. His cerise eyes follow the droplets, his scowl deepening with each one.

“Ciao, Luciano,” you chirp, though your eyes look as if they could peel back his skin and flay the muscle beneath. His scowl morphs into a sneer as he approaches you and he snaps the dishcloth from your clenched hands, almost ripping it in half. Dropping the cloth, he presses his foot to it and wipes up the offending puddle.

“Don't trifle with me, bella. I'm not in the mood.” He kicks the rag to the side and stalks past you to your shared bedroom, though you follow right on his heels.

“Neither am I, sweetheart!” You snap, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him to face you. Luciano's fist spins with his body's momentum, aiming for your jaw.

The two of you never physically fight, no matter how upset you are or how many rumors are spread about Luciano's temper, but with such high tensions boiling beneath your skins, your emotions have nothing else to do but explode. Somehow you bring your arm up just in time to block his attack. Both your eyes widen in surprise – Luciano's punch is much weaker than usual. As a nation, he retains more strength than you can ever hope to obtain, yet you just blocked him.

The Italian sneers and tries to play it off by saying, “You're lucky, bella. I'm going easy on you.” Luciano withdraws his hand, a look of disgust flitting across his features. Smirking, you grab his hand and pull him forward so you can wrap your arms around his neck. He flinches at your weight hanging off his neck, and your smirk only widens.

“Dear Luciano, who do you think you're fooling? Certainly not me...” You lean forward and stand on tiptoe, your mouth pressed against his ear. Luciano tilts his head away from you, grimacing when a shiver chases circles around his body at your silken whisper.

“That meeting took more out of you than usual,” you murmur, kneading your fingers into his tense neck.

Pulling away, a scowl melts onto his lips and he turns, heading to the bedroom. Your soft footsteps follow him, annoying him even more than before. It seems he just wants you to leave him alone. Too bad you don't plan on doing anything of the sort. He removes his jacket and tosses it to the side, trying his best to upset you with a mess in your pristine room. You allow the anger to flow off your back and give you more strength.

You wait until Luciano slips out of his belt before pouncing. He grunts when his back hits the bed, a snarl on his lips accompanying an insult. Your mouth on his doesn't silence him until one of your canines breaks his skin and draws blood. Your tongue teases the area, coaxing a hiss from your lover and offering you an opportunity to sneak inside his parted mouth.

A week long absence of passion finally overwhelms Luciano's anger. He responds to the hungry kiss, conveying his excitement through the resulting battle for dominance. His hands rest on your hips, his fingers biting into your skin and pushing you to the side. The attempt to switch your positions fails, however, because you hook your knees around his thighs and halt the motion.

Luciano breaks the kiss with a low growl, his hard eyes glaring up at you from your shadow. Smiling innocently, you wiggle your hips against his and lean down so your breasts press against his chest. A soft noise passes Luciano's lips. He puts as much strength as the strange position affords him into switching your positions, but to no avail. Your legs clench around his which grinds your hips together and you feel his excitement growing beneath you.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” You coo, running your knuckles across his jawline. Luciano sneers and snaps his teeth at your hand, skimming your index finger when you're not quick enough to recoil. Your childish demeanor morphs into cold triumph at getting a rise out of him. Ducking your head, your nose brushes against his and your eyes glint with lust and power.

“Only that you're pressing the wrong buttons,” Luciano hisses, his curl crimping in concealed fury and annoyance. You feel him move beneath you before he brings his knees up against your bottom – maybe to throw you off balance or maybe to tease you, you don't know. You don't take the time to ask, instead opting for the more aggressive approach to the situation. A deep rumble caresses your lips after you scrape your teeth against his jugular. His heart flutters beneath your bosom at your fingers sliding beneath his shirt and brushing against his abs up to his pectorals. His breath hitches in his throat and a delicious moan expels with what little air he has when you grind against his constrained member.

Luciano continues to struggle against your being in control of the situation by bucking his hips, pushing against your shoulders, everything he can possibly think to do. You smirk against his neck, reveling in your new found strength against the proud, if oftentimes psychotic, nation. You're not about to let this once in a lifetime opportunity pass you by without taking complete advantage of it. Luciano arches his chest off the bed, pinning your breasts and rubbing against your own excited buds. You nuzzle into his neck, your own breath catching in your throat. Your lover hums in amusement, knowing if he continues finding ways to tease you just as much as you're teasing him he'll be able to find the needed opening to turn the tables.

Growling, you grip one of his hands and jerk it above his head, pulling back and glaring at the smug Italian whose smirk melts into a grimace at the awkward position you've put him in. Shaking your head, your hand sneaks into his pants pocket and gently pulls out Luciano's trusted, prized knife. He shrinks back into the bed when you wave it in front of his eyes, your languid smile glinting off the metal.

“You might want to settle down, Luciano. I know that while you like to give pain, you're not exactly a fan of receiving it,” you purr, dragging the flat end of the blade against his cheek. Luciano shivers beneath you from the cold metal so close to his own skin, but for all the anger and hint of fear hidden in his eyes, his member throbs through your clothes to tease your heated core.

You set the knife on the nightstand to the side within easy reach should you need to persuade Luciano into submitting to you again. He follows the arc of the knife and takes his concentration from you for the smallest of moments. Smirking, you jerk Luciano's shirt over his head, wrapping it tightly around his wrists and trapping him. He snarls and pulls against the make-shift bond, jostling you in the making and you notice how he follows your breasts. Wiggling your hips, you slide your palms up and down your side, drawing Luciano's attention to your torso, before hooking your fingers under the hem of your shirt and slipping it up your stomach.

Every inch of skin is revealed at an antagonizing pace until your bra breaks the sea of flesh. A light pink tinges Luciano's cheeks and he keeps glancing to the side only to be enticed by the body he hasn't seen or touched for what seems like forever. You tug your own shirt over your head and allow your hands to fall to your breasts, cupping the gorgeous ladies and bouncing them against your palms. A sigh wells in your chest, heaving your breasts out for a better view when your fingers squeeze and tweak your nipples straining at the fabric of your bra. Luciano sneers and turns his head away though his body betrays him by shifting beneath your cramping legs.

Shrugging, you reach behind your back and undo the bra clasps, letting the article of clothing hang in front of your breasts and blocking Luciano's greedy view. You flash the irate Italian an innocent smile as you wriggle down his body until your mouth hovers above one of his nipples. His heart pounds against your chest and you hear his blood rushing through his veins. Training your gaze on his face, you wrap your lips around one of his pert nipples and circle your tongue around it. Luciano bites his lip and glares at you. Your teeth catch the bud and gently tug at it so that his glare wavers and he bites his lip harder.

Luciano's stubborn pride refuses to let him show you he's enjoying your sweet torture, but you're undeterred. The thrill of control courses through your nerves, planting a seed of pride in your own mind. You want to hear Luciano – you want to hear him beg, moan, and scream your name before you're done with him – and it's rare thing that you don't get your way.

You lick and kiss your way to Luciano's other nipple, welcoming it into your mouth to receive the same treatment as its brother and yet he still resists your efforts. His resolve cracks once you add a suckling motion to your reservoir. Luciano loves the noises that come with your lovemaking, and the quiet, wet noises against his chest are no different because you're the one making them. He turns his head and gnashes his teeth into the pillow beneath him, clenching his eyes shut. His bound hands move down to rest on the back of your head, his fingers intertwining in and yanking at your hair.

Tears form at the unexpected pain and a low moan reverberates around Luciano's nipple trapped in your mouth. Your moan seems to please Luciano since he thrusts himself against your breasts resting mere inches from his aching shaft. His confidence rises, your responses to him fueling his smoldering pride. No, you can't have that. This time he's yours – not the other way around. You rock back onto your knees still pinning Luciano's legs, putting a good amount of distance between your bodies and denying him the contact he desires.

Luciano snarls and wrestles with the shirt binding his hands, a short ripping noise piercing your ears, and yet the cloth miraculously holds. Laughter bubbles from your relief and the almost scandalized look on Luciano's face. He opens his mouth as if to give a retort to your amusement, but your palm nudging against the prominent bulge in his pants turns it into a low groan of need. Heat wells in your chest and trickles to your core at the first of many sounds you've been wanting to hear. His eyes remain closed, short gasps expelling from between his parted lips. Your heart stutters at the sight of your Italian lover; a light sheen of sweat already covers his chest from his furious attempts to escape your clutches, his pert nipples salute the air, and his skin reddens from the heat raging just beneath the surface.

Placing your hands next to his head, you lean over him and try to memorize every small twitch of his brow or pleasured grimace on his lips. He looks up at you, no longer glaring but almost watching you with a respectable wariness. Luciano's come to terms with the idea that his strength can't match yours after whatever harrowing he experienced at his meeting, but that doesn't mean he's going to give into your whims and beg for you like a little schoolgirl.

“C'mon, sweetheart. As soon as you give in, we both get what we want...” You murmur against his lips, slipping your hand between you and to his crotch where you deft fingers undo his pants. Air rushes past your cheeks at Luciano's sharp inhale at having the pressure against his member lightened, but only rewards you with a weak smirk. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you rear back on your heels and pull his pants and briefs down with a jerk of your wrists. He half-hisses, half-moans and snaps his gaze to the ceiling. Satisfied with his reaction, you link your arms around his thighs to keep him in place and press a light kiss to the tip of his weeping member.

A groan from above your head spurs you into kissing down every inch of his length, lapping at the top of his sac before moving back up the other side. Luciano thrusts against your mouth and almost pokes your eye. You lift your head and scowl at his smugness, relocating one of your hands to the base of his shaft and lifting it so you can lower your head and swallow half of him in one gesture. His strangled moan is music to your ears, the jerking of his hips into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat a triumph, his iron-strong fingers digging into your scalp a victory. He's almost broken down at the barest of touches, and though he'll blame being apart from you for so long as the culprit, you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you brought the great Luciano to his knees.

Bobbing your head milks not only more of his fluid from his head but also low, sexy moans of your name. Shudders rip through your limbs at Luciano's voiced pleasure, enticing you to move faster and take more of him into your throat until you're swallowing every glorious inch of his shaft. Tears may be pouring down your cheeks and you may be half gagging, but the delicious noises that crescendo above your head out of sight more than make up for whatever discomfort you feel. Luciano's hands pushing down on your head at a gradually erratic pace warn you that he's getting close to releasing. With a devilish gleam, you duck out from beneath his hands and lift your head, giggling at the murderous snarl he directs your way.

“What's wrong, sweetheart? Upset you're not getting your way?”

“If you don't...”

“If I don't what?” You tease, sitting up on your knees and shimmying out of your jeans, leaving only your soaking panties behind. Goose bumps attack your arms and legs at the freezing feeling against your core that worsens when you roll back onto your heels and spread your legs so Luciano can see how much the little session of dominance has turned you on. You watch his Adam's apple bob when he gulps and heat gathers on his cheeks.

“You want me to beg? I'm not going to, bella, because I know you want it, too.” Luciano sits up a little bit, his leisurely smirk doing nothing for the unbearable heat now flaring in your pelvis. His voice turns to silk as he murmurs, “I know you want to fuck yourself senseless on top of me.”

Annoyed that Luciano knows you so well and fed up with the double-edged blade of delayed gratification, you rip the last articles of clothing from your eager body and hover above the Italian. Reaching around yourself, your fingers pull his shaft into position and you sink onto your knees. You throw your head back and close your eyes, your harsh panting echoing in your ears even as your muscles slowly, teasingly encircle and clench around Luciano's desperate need. Luciano's triumph at his victory over your patience is short-lived. Halfway down on his member, you smirk and lift yourself back up, barely keeping his head inside your quivering walls.

Groaning in frustration, Luciano throws his head back against the pillow and glares at the ceiling. Chuckling, you bend closer to him so your faces are inches apart. A sweet smile puts him on edge, and sure enough, his suspicions are proved true when you slam your hips down against his, taking his girth in one fell swoop. Your cries of pleasure meld with his and the room resounds with the intoxicating sound of skin slapping against skin. Luciano's hips meet yours without abandon, his need just as great as yours and it becomes a race to see who will finish first. He hooks his bound hands behind your head, drawing you into a searing kiss that tastes of passion, blood, and pasta.

You fish along the nightstand to the side for Luciano's discarded knife, hissing into the kiss when the blade slices into your finger, but you pick it up and pull away from the kiss. His eyes narrow at the sight of the weapon, his thrusts faltering at the thought of you causing him pain. Rolling your eyes at his paranoia, you run the blade against your lively breasts, moaning and shuddering when the ice-cold metal touches your sensitive nipples. Lifting the weapon to your mouth, you flick your tongue out and lick the bleeding cut. Despite the threat of bodily harm, the sight proves too sensual for Luciano's fear and his hips move against yours so hard, your knees come off the bed.

Snatching his hands from behind your head, you cut through the fabric and free Luciano, who reclaims immediate use of his hands and catches hold of your breasts. He sits up and adds his mouth to the fray; biting at your lips, leaving deep bruises on your neck from his harsh sucking, mercilessly tugging at the overexcited buds his fingers only skim across. The heat builds and builds, the friction drives you insane, teeth scraping against skin destroys any semblance of control you have, and your hips jerk against Luciano's. His member leaves no inch of your core untouched, the frantic pace driving him against your deepest area one thrust and against the pleasure spot that sends stars shooting across your vision on the next.

Luciano reaches the peak of his bliss first, a feral cry tearing from his throat and his teeth break the skin on your neck over a particularly nasty hickey. His seed fills you to the brim and more, leaking onto his pulsing shaft, and still you ride him. The combination of his release and the pain radiating from your neck sends you over the brink, and you climax with a shrill scream. The Italian's fingers bury themselves in your skin, leaving more bruises on your skin but you don't care because your desperate to ride out the pounding pleasure after so long of not feeling anything.

All strength leaves you and you slump to Luciano's side with a pleased grin, squeezing your thighs together at the strange feeling you're always left with afterward. Your lover pulls you against his chest where you can hear his heart fluttering against his ribs. He sighs, sounding just as content as you, but there is something important you need to let him know...

“Next time you ignore me for your buddies, sweetheart, you're going to find out how your pasta sauce tastes with the special ingredient being your blood.”


End file.
